Runaway Part 2: Running Back
by egbkid
Summary: I am running from my past, to my mother's past. Chapters 18epilogue added.
1. Prologue

Here it is, the sequel to Runaway. Sorry for cutting out the way I did, it's just that I  
  
wanted to continue this way, and figured it'd be easier if I started fresh. I don't own  
  
anything but the plot, so please don't sue me, Dark Angel is owned by Mr. Cameron, Mr.  
  
Eglee and FOX . thanks for reading and the reviews.  
  
~egbkid  
  
  
  
I am Nicolas Alexander Cale. I am thirteen years old, and I am on the run. I am running  
  
from my past, to my mother's past. The last time I saw her, I blew up. I found a letter to  
  
her friend Cindy, and I read it, even though I knew I should not have. I fought about the  
  
letter with my mother. Then I ran away. She wanted to take my brother Patrick and I to  
  
Seattle, where she is from. That is where I am going. I have to find out why we left  
  
America and came to Canada when I was three years old. I want to know my sister. My  
  
mother's baby. She said I did not understand when I asked her about the baby her friend  
  
Cindy is taking care of. What I don't understand is why she was left behind. Or why the  
  
only evidence I have of my father is a photograph.  
  
I grew up in a town called Bay-West, across the continent from Seattle. It's a beautiful  
  
small town outside a small city. I want to know how I got there. I want to know why. And  
  
I will find out.  
  
~~ 


	2. one

I walked ten minutes to the bus and caught it into the city. Mom didn't know I had been  
  
saving fifteen of my twenty dollar allowance every week for the past year, that with some  
  
birthday money from friends, and the fifty I won in a drawing contest a few months ago, I  
  
managed to have a little over nine hundred dollars. I also had my change jar, which had  
  
about ten dollars in it. It only cost a dollar seventy-five to take the city bus, since I got a  
  
transfer to go uptown to the bus depot. The woman behind the counter told me it would  
  
cost seventy dollars to get to the border. I went into the washroom and counted out the  
  
money, but she wouldn't sell me a ticket. You have to be sixteen to buy a ticket without  
  
an adult. Great. I went back into the washroom to figure out what I was going to do.  
  
Glancing in the mirror, I realized I looked too young. All I had to do was make myself  
  
look older. There was a small mall nearby, so I went there and found a drugstore. I  
  
figured I could spike my hair, so I found some gel to do that with. Maybe if I colored it, I  
  
would look a bit older, too. I found some comb-in color, green. But that would only make  
  
my hair look like an older teen's, I needed some clothes. I also realized it was getting  
  
late; I needed to find somewhere to sleep. The mall was going to close soon, so I paid for  
  
my stuff and left. I rode the glass elevator up a level and found a store that sold camping  
  
supplies. I found a very small tent for a hundred dollars; I didn't want to afford a sleeping  
  
bag, so I figured I'd figure something out. Besides, it was early summer; I figured I  
  
should be all right for a while. Now all I had to do was find a place to pitch it. There were  
  
no parks in this city that you could pitch a tent in. Great. I couldn't even take a bus back  
  
home for the night, because I took the last bus coming or going from Bay- West. Finally, I  
  
remembered a park on the west side of the city, it was mostly woods, and it's gates were  
  
open almost all the time. I dug through my change jar for bus fare, then took another bus  
  
west, I had to walk almost half an hour to get to the park, then I followed some of the  
  
paths for about ten more minutes. Then I walked off the path and pitched my tent behind  
  
some bushes.  
  
~~ 


	3. two

The next morning, I crawled out of my tent, starving. I figured by now, mom would  
  
either be searching for me herself, or have the cops after me. I never knew why, but mom  
  
has always been jumpy about calling the cops for anything. Our teacher once told us that  
  
a lot of the cops in Post-Pulse America were corrupt, so maybe that is why. Checking my  
  
watch, I saw it was almost nine in the morning; I had until twelve to make myself look  
  
older and get back uptown to the bus. I packed up my tent and walked out of the park,  
  
when I got to the first bus stop, I caught one into the area of the west side that had stores,  
  
I went into the mall and found a washroom, where I dyed my hair, I didn't have enough  
  
dye, so I had to leave the tips dark. By the time I spiked my hair it created a good effect. I  
  
still looked like I was only thirteen or fourteen. There was a large store in this mall;  
  
maybe I could get a few cheap clothes there to make me look older. I found a fake black  
  
leather jacket with a tear in it, so I managed to get it for fifty dollars; its ticketed price  
  
was a hundred and fifty. I was already wearing a pair of black jeans, so I found a black t-  
  
shirt and a pair of sunglasses. After paying for this, I realized my money was going fast. I  
  
dug through my change jar for a bagel and hot chocolate, then went and got changed.  
  
There was only one thing missing, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then I  
  
realized, a lot of teenage guys had their ear pierced, mom was going to let me get mine  
  
done for my fifteenth birthday, but that was still a year away. At the moment, I didn't  
  
really have the courage to go through with it, but I had seen some fake gold earrings in  
  
the drug store uptown, maybe they had some in the drug store that was here. I looked and  
  
couldn't find them, so I figured I could pick them up there before I caught the bus. I  
  
checked my watch again; it was eleven, so now I had to rush to catch a city bus uptown to  
  
the bus depot.  
  
  
  
"The bus leaves at twelve thirty. You miss it, too bad, no refunds."  
  
"Thanks." I had finally got my ticket, but I had a fifteen-minute wait. Since it was going  
  
to be almost two hours on the bus, I went to the washroom. By the time I got out, the bus  
  
was pulling up. I checked my tent into the luggage compartment, but took my backpack  
  
on the bus with me. Luckily, I got a seat to myself, and I read the whole way to the  
  
border town.  
  
When I got off the bus, it was late afternoon and I was getting hungry again. I couldn't  
  
see any signs of a city bus, so I ended up walking to a fast food place and eating quickly.  
  
I could see the border crossing from where I sat, and the line looked long, I wanted to be  
  
in America by dark. After eating, I joined the line. It wasn't as long as it had looked from  
  
the restaurant, but it was moving slow. Some of the people were in cars, but most were on  
  
foot. Over half of those on foot had a cop with them, escorting Americans that weren't  
  
supposed to be in Canada back over the border. Finally, I made it to the border, praying  
  
they wouldn't give me any hassle. The cop there asked me if I was American or  
  
Canadian, I told him I was born in America, but lived in Canada since I was a baby. He  
  
then asked me if I had a sector pass. I wasn't sure what that was, so I said no. He gave me  
  
a form to fill out and pointed me to another line to join when I was done. Great.  
  
~~ 


	4. three

Name: Max N. Alexander  
  
Age: 16  
  
Birth date: 23 October 2015  
  
Sex: Male  
  
Address: Bay-West, Canada  
  
Birthplace (if different): Seattle, Washington, America  
  
Next of Kin: none  
  
Vehicles: none  
  
Destination(s): traveling from Maine to Washington.  
  
~~  
  
After waiting in line for another fifteen minutes, I was given a sector pass. I was told to  
  
keep it visible at all times, and I was given a letter to allow me to change my sector pass  
  
as I went from state to state. Then I was told to stay out of Texas, New York and  
  
California. Texas because it was considered another country, separated in 2012. New  
  
York and California because the army had moved into those states because of rioting and  
  
gang wars. It's been over twenty years since the Pulse, and America is still devastated. I  
  
couldn't really tell the difference in this town than in the one I just left, except there  
  
weren't as many cars on the streets. After walking about two miles, I found the  
  
difference, and what a sector pass was for.  
  
~~ 


	5. four

It was basically like the border, with a few cops checking passes and letting most people  
  
by. I got a comment about my sector pass being new, and the fact that I was Canadian,  
  
but they let me pass. It seemed that the city was split up into sectors two or thee square  
  
miles, with borders all around them. I wasn't given a second glance at any of the sector  
  
points, as I soon learned they were called, and I easily got out of the city.  
  
I kept walking, on an old highway that went through some woods, I was still there when  
  
night hit, so I set up my tent in the woods and slept there for the night. When I woke up, I  
  
was starving. That's when I realized I had no food with me! I hoped I was near another  
  
city or town where I could get something. I packed up and started walking along the  
  
highway. I hadn't seen anyone since I left the city the night before. About four hours after  
  
I started walking, I turned a corner and was in front of a sector point. There was no one in  
  
sight, but as I approached a cop came out of the building. He looked mean. I walked up to  
  
him, showing my pass. He looked at it closely.  
  
"Name."  
  
"Max Alexander, sir." He looked at me and raised an eyebrow when I called him sir.  
  
"Where you headed?"  
  
"Just passing through, I'm headed for Seattle."  
  
"Awful young to be travelin' that far on your own, ain't ya?"  
  
"I'm sixteen. Last I checked there are no rules about that."  
  
"How would you know, according t' this, you're Canadian."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Hey, don't get smart with me, boy, or I'll send ya packin' back to your mama."  
  
"I don't have a 'mama'. My father flew to Seattle, told me to find my own way there."  
  
"Great dad ya got. But that don't let ya by." He rubbed his thumb across his index and  
  
middle fingers. I got the message. Digging in my pocket, all I found was a five, but it was  
  
Canadian. I handed it to him and he investigated the blue bill.  
  
"What the Hell is this?"  
  
"Five bucks. Five Canadian bucks, which is worth about ten fifty American."  
  
"That all ya got?"  
  
"Yes. That's all dad gave me, he said I could figure out the rest."  
  
"Fine. Get lost, kid." He handed me my sector pass and let me through, giving me a small  
  
push as I went past him. I walked until I was out of his sight, and then went into the first  
  
store I found. It was small and dirty, but I was hungry. I dug a two-dollar coin out of my  
  
jeans pocket and bought a bag of chips. Not exactly a healthy breakfast, but there wasn't  
  
much else there that looked edible. The guy behind the counter didn't look much older  
  
than me, but I asked him if he knew where I could find a bank. He didn't know what a  
  
bank was. Yeah. I told him a bank was a place where people kept money. He clued in and  
  
told me there was not one in this town, but the next town had one. I bought a bottle of  
  
water and another bag of chips, with him marveling over my money, then walked out the  
  
door through the town towards the next checkpoint.  
  
~~ 


	6. five

It took me the rest of that day and half of the next to find the town with the bank. By that  
  
time, I was really hungry, but I didn't want to flash any more Canadian money. I had no  
  
wait in the bank, even though there was only one teller, he looked more like a bouncer in  
  
the movies, in a caged in Plexiglas booth that only had a small hole to do business  
  
through. I stepped up to the booth and waited for him to look up from his book. After half  
  
a minute he spoke, without looking up from it.  
  
"Can't help you if you don't speak up."  
  
"Sorry, I was wondering if you exchange Canadian money to American."  
  
"Yup. How much you got?"  
  
"About six hundred dollars."  
  
"Six hundred dollars!" he dropped his book, "Where'd a kid like you get that amount of  
  
cash?"  
  
"My parents. I'm heading west, figured it'd be easier to go this way than through Canada,  
  
but I need American money first."  
  
"Alright, let's see it." I hauled out the envelope I had my money in. we counted it and  
  
figured I had six hundred, thirty-five dollars. I got it exchanged and ended up with one  
  
thousand, two hundred seventy. Wow. I asked the guy if I should get my change switched  
  
too, he told me only the one and two dollar coins, because the other coins didn't really  
  
matter. I ended up only having five dollars in large change, so I made myself another ten  
  
there. Before I left, the banker told me to keep my money well hidden, and to only keep  
  
five or ten dollars on me at a time. I thanked him and left, finding a small, run down  
  
restaurant and got myself a greasy breakfast.  
  
~~ 


	7. six

It took me a week and a half to get through Maine. Once I got into New Hampshire I  
  
found a map of America. It was an old one, of when it was still called the United States,  
  
but it was still good. Just past the sector point that led into the state, I found an old park. I  
  
spread my map out on a picnic table with only one bench and tried my best to figure out  
  
where I was. I had a long way to go, and it looked like I had no choice but to go through  
  
New York State unless I went back up into Canada. Right now it would take me almost a  
  
week to get back up to Canada, and it would put me into Quebec. I had never been there  
  
before, that I remembered. Maybe it would be a nice place to see. It would be easier to  
  
travel in Canada, and I could take a train or bus part of the way, if I remembered right, I  
  
could take one around the Lakes, from Montreal or Ottawa to Thunder Bay in Ontario. It  
  
would take me over a month to walk around the Lakes, but I would have to go through  
  
New York. I pitched my tent and decided to sleep on it.  
  
~~  
  
"If you're Canadian, kid, then what are you doing in America?"  
  
"My father, he lives in America, and my mom lives in Canada. I was just visiting him,  
  
and now I'm going home. Can I go now? I have to be home in two days, and I have to  
  
take the bus."  
  
"Just a minute. Says here your name is Max Alexander. Got any proof of that?"  
  
"No, all I have is this sector pass issued to me when I went into America."  
  
"What's the 'N' mean?"  
  
"Nicolas. My name is Max Nicolas Alexander."  
  
"And you're Canadian."  
  
"Yes, that's why there is a maple leaf on my sector pass, because it was issued in  
  
Canada!"  
  
"All right, calm down, kid, I'll let you by. But next time, have some better ID."  
  
"Thanks. I'll try."  
  
Once I got past the cranky lady at the border, I found myself in a small city. While I was  
  
walking back to Canada, I realized I still had money in an emergency account mom had  
  
set up for each of us years ago. She put twenty dollars in both bank accounts each month,  
  
mine must have thousands of dollars in it by now. I had a debit card for that account, just  
  
in case, and mom said I could take some of the money if I was ever in a bind. I didn't  
  
want to change my money back over to Canadian; I knew I would lose some, so I decided  
  
to try the account. It was easy to find a bank; there was one on every corner. I went in to  
  
one of the machines, I didn't want to risk talking to one of the tellers, and had no  
  
problems withdrawing two hundred dollars, praying that mom hadn't put a trace on the  
  
account.  
  
~~ 


	8. seven

I found a seventy-dollar hotel room for the night, cleaned up and ate my first healthy  
  
meal in almost three weeks. I looked for a drugstore and found more dye, I also bought  
  
more gel, I was beginning to like the spiked effect, and I found a product to bleach the  
  
tips of my hair. The next morning, I took an eight-hour bus ride to a city on the border in  
  
Ontario. I had no problems getting across the border and getting my sector pass renewed,  
  
the guy at the crossing was practically waving everybody through. When I crossed the  
  
border, I was in Minnesota, and once again, I didn't really see a difference between this  
  
town and the one I had just left. I didn't have time to compare cities, so I figured where I  
  
was, and started walking west.  
  
  
  
  
  
It was rainy most of my two-week hike through Minnesota, rainy and miserable. I didn't  
  
want to find a hotel, but I had to dry out. I had a few problems at sector points, as well. I  
  
planned on only staying a day away from Canada, just in case, but ended up going further  
  
down. I was so far south in Minnesota that when I crossed state borders, I ended up in,  
  
according to my map, South Dakota. I knew that North and South Dakota had become  
  
one at about the same time Texas separated, but my map was so old, it still showed the  
  
border. Sitting in my tent with only a flashlight to see, I checked my map. If I traveled  
  
wisely, I only had three more states to cross before I got to Washington, and I had to  
  
cross it to get to Seattle. I estimated six weeks to get to Washington State. Two in  
  
Dakota, three to cross Montana, and one more to cross the northern part of Idaho. I put  
  
my map away and dug out a picture mom had put in the envelope with the letter I had  
  
found. It was one taken last March Break. It had been sunny and warm for once, and  
  
mom had gotten the entire week off work. We had gone with our neighbor and her kids to  
  
the province's capital for the day, and our neighbor had snapped it in front of a statue in  
  
one of the parks. Mom had taken an identical one of them, and one of all of us kids. I  
  
brought the picture to help with my search; mom can't have changed that much in ten  
  
years. Except for the wheelchair. I have vague memories of her walking, but I'm not sure  
  
if they are actual memories, or just a dream I had. I miss mom and Patrick. I miss home. I  
  
even miss school. It's been so long, school is probably out by now. As much as I wanted  
  
to go home, I knew I had to go on, so I put the picture back in my pack, lay down and  
  
went to sleep.  
  
~~ 


	9. eight

It continued to rain throughout Dakota, and I was getting miserable. All my stuff was  
  
wet, I was soaked to the skin by the time I stopped each night, and in the morning, I was  
  
still damp. And it seemed that every sector cop I met had too hassle me. Finally, I gave  
  
up about a day from the Montana border and found a hotel in a small city. I ended up  
  
paying a hundred dollars for one night. I set my tent up in the room, then washed my  
  
clothes and hung them off lamps, doorknobs and bedposts. I went down to the restaurant  
  
and got a to greasy meal for to much money. After dinner, I went to watch television in  
  
my room, but all that was on was news. There were three different channels and they all  
  
had news on them, one from the east coast, one from the west coast and one from the  
  
central part of America. I turned on the eastern news and watched it until I fell asleep.  
  
I didn't want to afford another night in the hotel, so I packed everything up, ate a small  
  
breakfast that was as bad as dinner had been, and continued hiking west. I easily crossed  
  
the border at nightfall, and the next day, it wasn't raining. Finally.  
  
~~  
  
I was wrong, it took well over three weeks to get through Montana. Passing through  
  
sector checkpoints every hour or two gets annoying after awhile, though. The best part is  
  
that it was sunny the entire time, and the nights were warm. I got a tan unlike any I have  
  
ever had before, and I was enjoying my trip, except for the sector cops. There were only a  
  
few that gave me problems. By the time I hit Idaho, my hair was shaggy, the green dye  
  
was pretty much gone, but my tips were still white. I couldn't spike my hair anymore  
  
because of its length. But I did look and feel older than I did when I left Bay-West. Even  
  
though I was still only thirteen, I felt as though I was the sixteen I was acting. It's been  
  
nine weeks since I left home, but it feels as if it has been nine years. I still miss mom and  
  
Patrick, but I am not thinking of them every minute of every day, as I was in Dakota. And  
  
I'm not so angry with mom now. I can see what she meant when she said I don't  
  
understand. I think about so much while walking every day. Walking through Idaho, I  
  
think about going up to Canada and using the rest of my money to take a bus or train  
  
home. But I want to understand what mom was trying to tell me, so I enter Washington  
  
State and continue towards the ocean, Seattle and my mom's past.  
  
~~ 


	10. nine

"Name", not again, I thought.  
  
"Name!"  
  
"Uh, sorry, Max. Max Alexander."  
  
"And you are coming into Seattle for.?"  
  
"To see my father."  
  
"And he is?"  
  
"Uh. Actually, I'm not really sure. Just Cale." He gave me a look.  
  
"There are lots of Cales in this city, kid."  
  
"Yeah? So? And I'm just another one. Can I go now, he's expecting me."  
  
"How ya supposed to meet your father when you don't even know his name?"  
  
"Logan. Ok? His name is Logan. He is expecting me for dinner. I have to get there in two  
  
hours, and I have to walk. Can I go now?"  
  
"Yeah, go, here." He tossed my sector pass at me, I barely caught it. Laughing, he went  
  
back into his kiosk, and I walked into Seattle.  
  
~~ 


	11. ten

It was rainy in Seattle, but if I remember correctly, mom said it always seemed like it was  
  
raining in Seattle. I had to find out some information before nightfall, because I doubted  
  
there would be a place for me to pitch my tent in this run down city. I kept walking  
  
through the city, until I found myself in front of a sector point that had the number five  
  
on it, I crossed into the sector and noticed there were a lot of rundown apartments. Two  
  
blocks from the sector point, I ran into a street that had a couple of businesses on it. One  
  
had people coming and going in and out of the building on bicycles. As I walked past, I  
  
could hear someone hollering about getting packages delivered. He was loud, and had an  
  
annoying voice. I stopped to listen and almost got run over by a woman riding out,  
  
shouting insults over her shoulder. She stopped directly in front of me, missing be with  
  
her bike by about ten centimeters.  
  
"Hey! Watch where you goin' kid!" she hollered.  
  
"Sorry, and I'm not 'kid'."  
  
"Then who are you?" I thought a second. "Well?"  
  
"Max. Max Cale, and you?"  
  
"Who you tryin' to kid? According to your sector pass your name is Alexander."  
  
"That's my middle name. What's it to you?"  
  
"Hey, don't get smart wit' me, kid! What's your real name?"  
  
"Who's asking?"  
  
"Original Cindy, and you?"  
  
"Nicolas Cale, I'm looking for someone, maybe you can help me."  
  
"Aiight, shoot." I pulled the picture of Mom, Patrick and I out.  
  
"This is a picture of my mom, I'm looking for my dad, maybe you knew them." She  
  
grabbed the picture out of my hands. "Hey!"  
  
"Max!"  
  
"You know her?"  
  
"This your mama?" She looked over her shoulder as the voice from inside the building  
  
hollered again, sighing, she dug a pen out of her vest and wrote on the back of the  
  
picture. "Meet me here at five, I gotta go b'for Normal's head blows up." She took off on  
  
her bike back the way I came.  
  
~~ 


	12. eleven

She hadn't written what sector the address was in, so it took me most of the afternoon to  
  
find it. I was hoping maybe this Original Cindy would give me a place to stay for the  
  
night, since it would be to late to figure that out after I met with her. It was about four  
  
thirty by the time I found the building, so I decided to go in and check it out. The  
  
doorman stopped me, and asked me who I was, I gave him my real name, and he let me  
  
pass. He had a strange look on his face, though. From outside, the building looked like  
  
some in the Uptown area back home, the foyer was a little run down, no hanging on the  
  
walls, there was an old receptionist desk, and there was one bench, so I sat on it and  
  
waited for Original Cindy. She stormed in ten minutes later, mumbling about a normal. A  
  
normal what? She blew past me, without a glance.  
  
"You comin' or stayin', kid?" she said as she neared an elevator. I rushed to pick up my  
  
backpack and into the open elevator, just making it. Dropping my backpack, I watched as  
  
she slid a card into a spot beside the buttons, then hit one marked PH. The elevator  
  
creaked slowly upward.  
  
"You still got that picture?" I pulled it out of my pocket and gave it to her. "Now, tell me  
  
again, what your name is, your full name."  
  
"Nicolas Alexander Cale."  
  
"And this boy, he is?"  
  
"My brother, Patrick James, he's ten, no, he's eleven now.''  
  
"And this lady in the picture, this your mama?"  
  
"Yes, that's mom."  
  
"Her name?"  
  
"Kori Cale, everyone calls her K.C. My dad is Logan Cale."  
  
"But you're thirteen? When is your birthday, kid?"  
  
"October 23." She gave me a look "2019."  
  
The elevator lurched to a stop, the doors opened into a room with hardwood floors. We  
  
stepped out. I could see a kitchen to my right, and there was a wall with a painting on it to  
  
the left, the rest looked like one huge room with dividers. Original Cindy led me through  
  
the dividers, I saw a computer room and a TV room, to a door on the wall. She opened  
  
the door to a hallway that had four other doors off it.  
  
"You got any clean clothes in that bag of yours?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, showers in here", she opened one of the doors to a bathroom, "Use it. Towels are  
  
under the sink. I'll meet ya in the kitchen, down th' hall."  
  
"Thanks." She slowly walked down the hall again and out the door. I closed the bathroom  
  
door, turning and leaning against it, and then I heard something. The outer door clicked. I  
  
opened the bathroom door a crack, just enough to see Original Cindy sneak into the room  
  
across the hall from me. I closed the door and started the shower. Who's room was that,  
  
and why was she sneaking into it? And what had I just gotten myself into?  
  
~~ 


	13. twelve

"I know my boo, and that is her. But what is up with that chair? What is fast enough to  
  
get her."  
  
"I don't know, Cindy, but that looks an awful lot like the spare chair Logan used to carry  
  
around in the car. But why would she pretend? If she had stayed, she would have known  
  
the truth."  
  
"Who cares about the truth! That was a long time ago. Now we have to figure out this  
  
kid. He says his mama's name is Kori, but this is Max, an' he says his daddy's Logan.  
  
Possible for his brotha, but not him! He's thirteen, says he was born in October of 2019.  
  
That does not compute, if ya ask me."  
  
"I was adopted." I stepped into the kitchen. Original Cindy and a man sat at the table, my  
  
picture between them. She jumped up when she saw me.  
  
"Nick! I'd like you to meet Bling. Bling, this here's Nick."  
  
I shook Bling's hand. "Nice to meet you, but it is Nicolas."  
  
"Nice to meet you, to, Nicolas. Want to sit down?" I sat in the third chair.  
  
"So, you want to elaborate on what you just said, Nicolas?" Bling asked me, as Original  
  
Cindy went to the stove to stir something.  
  
"Well, I was adopted when I was about three. Patrick was just a baby."  
  
"Do you remember anything about then?"  
  
"Not really. Mom never said we were both born in Seattle, we just assumed, she never  
  
spoke much about our past. I know she left here when I was three, settled in Bay-West,  
  
and that's it."  
  
"Do you remember anything from the journey?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"You said you think your father is Logan Cale. Why?"  
  
"Well, we have a picture of him on our mantle, it's always been there. I do remember a  
  
time when I didn't call him Dad; I think it was Patrick that started calling him that first.  
  
Mom never denied it, so I figured it must be true."  
  
"So, why are you here?"  
  
"Mom and I had a fight. She wrote two letters, they must have been to you two, because  
  
one was addressed to Bling, and one to Cindy. I found them and kind of flipped over  
  
some of the stuff in them. She said I didn't understand, and I wanted to understand, so I  
  
came here. Back to where it all started."  
  
"So what was in the letters that was so important?"  
  
"Well, there was something about how she got to Bay-West, a little about me and Patrick,  
  
our life now, and some about her baby." Original Cindy turned from the stove.  
  
"Her baby? She pregnant? She find herself anotha man?"  
  
"No! The baby she left behind. She said she really missed Seattle, and especially her  
  
baby, and she hoped you were taking good care of her."  
  
"What!"  
  
"That's why she said I didn't understand, because I asked her why she didn't bring her  
  
baby with us, but she must have been older than Patrick, because he was a baby."  
  
"Her baby." Bling whispered. "Hey Cindy, isn't that what she called her Ninja?"  
  
"Her Ninja?"  
  
"Her bike! She took Logan's ride when she split, she left hers here."  
  
"Her bike? As in motorcycle? My mom used to ride a motorcycle?"  
  
"Not just ride, baby. Your mama took better care of that bike than herself. The only thing  
  
she may have loved more was Logan."  
  
"What about me and Patrick?" A look passed between Original Cindy and Bling, and she  
  
turned back to the stove. "What?"  
  
"Well, Nicolas. Max must have adopted you two after she left Seattle."  
  
"But she never said we weren't born in Seattle, she said."  
  
"It's possible that you were, she may have stayed in Seattle for a while after she left  
  
here."  
  
"No! She said we went straight from here to Bay-West. I do remember some of it, we  
  
stayed in the car a lot, and a few hotels. I remember one night that Patrick wouldn't stop  
  
crying. Mom walked around the hotel room with him. I remember the day we moved into  
  
our house, mom made beds for us, and then she fixed up the car, painted it blue, and got a  
  
job at the garage. She's always worked there. I remember her quizzing me about how  
  
we.changed.our.names."  
  
"Can you remember what your name was before?"  
  
"No, but I know it was similar to my name now."  
  
"Hey peeps, dinner's ready." Original Cindy set three plates of spaghetti on the table, and  
  
then doused them in sauce. "Hope ya like it."  
  
"It's been so long since I had a good meal, I'll like anything, ma'am."  
  
"Original Cindy ain't no ma'am, that makes her sound old. Tell us about your mama,  
  
what's my boo been up to?"  
  
"Your boo?"  
  
"It's an expression, kid. Don't you be givin' no sass to Original Cindy. Talk."  
  
"Cindy, he's probably tired, let him eat."  
  
"Fine, fine, but tell us, where exactly is this Bay-West you keep talkin' bout?"  
  
"In New Brunswick, in Canada. It's close to the Eastern Coast."  
  
"You walked across th' country?"  
  
"Pretty much, I took a bus part of the way. Mmm, this spaghetti sauce is the best I've had  
  
in a long time."  
  
"If I remember correctly, Max couldn't cook very well. She was always getting Logan to  
  
cook for her."  
  
"She still can't cook. We used to get take out for dinner a lot, but Patrick loves to cook  
  
and since he's old enough to now, he usually does a lot of it."  
  
"Logan loved to cook for Max."  
  
"Did he? Mom never really talked about him a lot. She usually changed the subject."  
  
"Hey, speaking a cooking, I did it, you men clean. I'll just take another plate and go  
  
relax. Have fun." Original Cindy did just that, but I found it unusual that she took a clean  
  
plate for her second helping. I helped Bling clean off the table and we did the dishes,  
  
talking some more.  
  
"Don't worry about Cindy, her bark is worse than her bite."  
  
"I beg your pardon, sir?"  
  
"Please, don't call me sir, call me Bling, and her Cindy or else she will bite your head off.  
  
I've learned that much in the last ten years."  
  
"You've been married for ten years?"  
  
"Married? No. You can't tie Cindy down, we're just two of your parents friends, we  
  
moved in here together after your mom left."  
  
"It's a beautiful apartment. It must have been hard to find in this city."  
  
"No, not really. The apartment."  
  
"Hey, I got some more dishes for ya." Cindy came through the kitchen door carrying the  
  
plate and a plastic glass; she set them in the sink that Bling had just emptied. "Hey, guess  
  
I'm to late, they'll sit til mornin'." As she talked, I started yawning. I had walked all  
  
around the city that afternoon, and hadn't realized I was so tired.  
  
"Guess we betta find a place fir you to bunk down, you'll have to use the couch, if you  
  
don' mind."  
  
"No, I don't mind, it's better than another night in my tent, especially since it's raining  
  
again."  
  
"Now what is so new about that?"  
  
"Mom mentioned something about it raining a lot here."  
  
"A lot? Now there's an understatement!"  
  
"Come on Cindy, give him a break. He's tired, let's just find him some blankets and let  
  
him sleep."  
  
"Fine, fine, but tomorrow, you talk!"  
  
The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was wondering whose apartment Bling  
  
was going to say this was, then I fell into a deep sleep.  
  
~~ 


	14. thirteen

I was awaken by a loud, but muffled thump form one of the rooms down the hall. As I sat  
  
up, I heard Bling holler, but I couldn't make out what he had said. I went to get up when I  
  
heard another thump and what sounded like a scuffle. As I approached the door, the noise  
  
settled down. I heard a door close, and someone walk down the hall, and then Bling  
  
walked out the door.  
  
"Good morning, Nicolas. I hope I didn't wake you up."  
  
"It's alright, I should have been up anyway."  
  
"I have a few more questions for you, but how about breakfast first?"  
  
"Great." He led me away from the hall door and into the kitchen, where told me Cindy  
  
had gone to work. He told me that she delivered packages, and my mom used to do that  
  
too. I never knew that. I wish she had told us more about her past, about what happened  
  
back then.  
  
"What's wrong, Nicolas?" I jumped out of my reverie.  
  
"Sorry, I was thinking. About Mom and Patrick, I guess I kind of miss them."  
  
"Ok, here's the important question," Bling said, setting a plate of eggs in front of me. I  
  
took a mouthful, "Does Max know you are here?" I stopped chewing.  
  
"Didn't think so. Not even Max would let her child hike across the country by himself."  
  
"What do you mean, not even Max."  
  
"She was a little.wild. She was a rule breaker, if you told her no; it meant 'go for it',  
  
you couldn't keep her down. And she didn't worry about anyone but herself, until she got  
  
involved with Logan, anyway."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, but still, she's probably worried sick about you, so you have to let her know you  
  
are okay."  
  
"I'll send her an e-mail, she checks them daily so she'll get it right away."  
  
"You can't send e-mails here."  
  
"But I saw a computer when I came in, didn't I?"  
  
"Nah, it doesn't work."  
  
"How can you have a computer that doesn't work, I mean, computers are everything!"  
  
"Maybe in Canada, but since the Pulse, most computers haven't worked."  
  
"You've had a computer sitting around for twenty years?"  
  
"I guess it has been that long, hasn't it?"  
  
"Well, it's been almost twenty five years by now, but how am I going to contact mom?"  
  
"Send her a letter."  
  
"It will take to long."  
  
"We still have Express Mail. It will get to her tomorrow if it gets sent out this morning.  
  
You go take a shower and get dressed, and I'll see if I can find something for you to write  
  
on. Do you remember where everything is?"  
  
"Yup, thanks."  
  
~~ 


	15. fourteen

Mom:  
  
I'm sorry I ran away, but you can stop worrying, I'm safe in Seattle with your friends  
  
Bling and Cindy. I understand now, or at least part of it. I want to understand everything,  
  
though. You can't send e-mails here, so if you want me to come home, send me a letter  
  
saying so, and I will come. But if you don't mind, I would like to stay here and learn  
  
more about the past. I will get Bling to enroll me in school, or, if need be, I'll get a job. I  
  
am sorry I made you worry; I miss you and Patrick.  
  
Love,  
  
Nicolas  
  
~~ 


	16. fifteen

As I wrote the letter, Bling went down the hall, claiming he had to get some laundry or  
  
something. When I was done, I stuffed it in the envelope he gave me and wrote my home  
  
address on it. Bling was still gone, so I decided to look around the apartment. There was a  
  
beautiful view of the city through floor to ceiling picture windows. I walked towards the  
  
elevator, and found the office. There was a picture of my mom sitting on the desk. Bling  
  
said the computer hadn't worked in almost twenty-five years, so why was there a picture  
  
on the desk of my mom from ten years ago? It was a picture of mom standing on a beach;  
  
she was scowling, as if she didn't want the picture taken. But then, mom never really  
  
liked having her picture taken. We had to beg her to join us in the picture that I brought  
  
with me. I picked up the picture and looked at it closer. It was strange seeing my mom  
  
standing, and she was dressed in all black, with a leather jacket. Setting the picture back  
  
down, I opened one of the drawers. There was a box of printer paper in it, and an  
  
envelope that looked like it came from a photograph developer. I opened it, sitting on the  
  
desk chair; I started flipping through the pictures. One was of Mom and Dad, it looked  
  
like the master copy of the one we have on the mantle, it hadn't been blown up, and Mom  
  
was in it. It showed them from the chest up, in front of this building, Mom had the same  
  
scowl on her face. In the next one, mom looked happy. She was standing in front of the  
  
building where I had met Cindy. She had one arm around Cindy's shoulders, and one arm  
  
around a geeky looking guy with dark hair. Kneeling in front of them was another guy. I  
  
turned the photo over to see if there was anything written on the back, but there wasn't.  
  
The next photo was of Mom sitting on a motorcycle. A beautiful motorcycle, I figured  
  
this must be the one Cindy and Bling told me about. She wasn't looking at the camera, so  
  
she must not have known it was taken. There was one more; it was of my mom and dad.  
  
This one totally amazed me, because my mom had never mentioned what I saw in this  
  
photo. It showed Dad, sitting in a wheelchair that looked an awful lot like the one Mom  
  
uses. Mom leaned over behind him, her arms over his shoulders. They both looked at the  
  
camera with huge silly grins on their faces. I had never seen my mom so happy. I stared  
  
at the photo forever, until I heard a thump come from the hallway, I heard Bling shout  
  
again. I stuffed the pictures back into the envelope, with the exception of the last one,  
  
then put the envelope in the drawer. There was another thump, it sounded like something  
  
hitting the wall! Bling shouted again, but I couldn't make out what it was. I thought I  
  
heard another voice shout out too, but I was the only one in the apartment besides Bling,  
  
or at least I thought I was. Giving it a minute to calm down before I went to investigate, I  
  
went to the den to put the photo in my book bag. Bling shouted again, and this time, I'm  
  
sure I heard another voice holler back at him. I ran towards the hallway as I heard  
  
something else hit the wall. Opening the door, I listened again, I could hear Bling's voice,  
  
but it sounded calmer, no longer shouting. It was coming from the room that Cindy had  
  
snuck into yesterday. What, or rather who, was in that room? I heard Bling speak again,  
  
then, just as I was going to investigate, Bling stepped out of the room.  
  
"Nicolas, is your letter done? We should go mail it right away."  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"I thought I heard you shouting."  
  
"I'm sorry, the television must have been to loud, let's go, I want to stop at the market to  
  
see if we can get something for dinner, too."  
  
"Alright." I grabbed my jacket and we went out. But my thoughts stayed behind in the  
  
apartment.  
  
~~ 


	17. sixteen

By the time we got back, Cindy was home from work, complaining about her boss,  
  
complaining about the weather, and telling Bling that 'he' was in a bad mood today.  
  
Bling agreed with her, and I saw another look pass between them. Cindy then  
  
changed the subject to dinner. I knew that they were talking about whomever was  
  
in that room. And last night, before I interrupted them, Cindy said mom didn't stick  
  
around long enough to know the truth. What happened, and what was the truth? I  
  
had to find out. First of all, I had to find out why Mom left Seattle in the first  
  
place. I knew it had something to do with dad, but what? I figured I had at least  
  
two days to figure it out, one day for my letter to get to Bay-West, and another  
  
for mom's answer to get back to me. I knew she would request me to go home. She  
  
didn't want me digging into her past, or else she would have told us herself what  
  
had happened. Wouldn't she?  
  
~~ 


	18. seventeen

Bling and Cindy kept me busy for the next two days; I barely had time to think  
  
about that room. But it seemed that Bling always spent time in there, sometimes  
  
yelling. And I'm sure I heard someone yelling back. Cindy always spent part of the  
  
evening in there, and for some reason she always made us do dinner dishes while she  
  
took a clean second plate into the den to watch television or something. I had a  
  
feeling she was feeding someone in that room. Finally on my fifth day with Bling  
  
and Cindy, a letter came from my mom.  
  
"Nicolas:  
  
I should come down there and kick your butt all the way back here. But I'm not. You  
  
worried us all, and Patrick misses you a lot. I noticed the money you took from your  
  
bank account, I'm glad you took it. I kind of expected you to show up in Seattle. I  
  
suppose Bling and Cindy told you everything. You knew you were adopted, but now  
  
you know you were not born in Seattle. Neither was I, I should tell you. I was born  
  
in Wyoming, had a rough childhood and was in hiding in Seattle when I was nineteen  
  
and met Logan. That I know of, Logan was born and raised in Seattle. We both had a  
  
lot of enemies, and finally, one got the man I loved. When he was killed, I got  
  
scared. For myself, for my brothers and sisters in hiding like I was, and especially  
  
for my friends, so I left. I never planned on going to Canada, but I ended up here.  
  
  
  
"I made my way across the country, and I found you and Patrick in Quebec, beside a  
  
garbage bin behind a mall. I couldn't stand to see you suffering, so I took you with  
  
me. The only thing I found with you was a slip of paper with two names and two  
  
birthdays. The names were Nicolai and Patric. You only spoke French, but I was  
  
able to talk to you some because I had taken French when I was a kid. You told me  
  
your name was Nicolai, and I taught you English. You started to call me Mama after  
  
only a week together, it scared me, and tried to tell you otherwise, but you insisted  
  
on calling me mama, so I let you.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry I made you run away, but I am glad you know the truth. School will start  
  
soon, if Bling or Cindy do not mind having you around, ask them to enroll you. I will  
  
let you stay, dig up whatever information you want, but please, be careful. It can be  
  
a dangerous place.  
  
Love,  
  
Mom."  
  
~~ 


	19. eighteen

I was surprised by everything she wrote in the letter. She never told me that dad  
  
had died before she left Seattle, neither had Cindy or Bling, but then they might  
  
have assumed I knew. And what did she mean when she said she had been hiding in  
  
Seattle, and that it was a dangerous place? At dinner, Bling asked about the letter,  
  
I let him read it through.  
  
"I guess Max assumes that we told you a lot. Are you still confused?"  
  
I nodded my head as Cindy came in late from work, she noticed the seriousness and  
  
raised an eyebrow. Bling motioned to the letter, silently asking me if she could read  
  
it. I nodded again and he gave the letter to Cindy to read.  
  
"Same old Maxie, kickin' butt all th' way. So, what we gonna do?"  
  
"Tell him everything, I guess. Max already thinks we have."  
  
"How much 'everythin' from Max, from us, from Logan, or from th' day..."  
  
"Everything, tell me everything."  
  
"Dinner first, then dishes. After dinner, we will talk."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Cindy took her usual plate of food while Bling and I did dishes, then we all went into  
  
the den and sat down.  
  
"So, where do we start?" Cindy asked.  
  
"At the beginning."  
  
Bling started talking.  
  
~~ 


	20. nineteen

"Max is...special. She's not like us. We believe she was born in the year 2000, in  
  
Wyoming. She was born at a sort of institute, where she wasn't given a name, rather  
  
a number. She was part of a group called the X5 s, and her number was 452. Until  
  
she was nine years old, she was known only as X5-452. She was trained like a  
  
soldier, expected to act like an adult, express no emotions and was trained to be  
  
loyal to her group, to obey orders without questions. They were the property of the  
  
United States government, and lived and trained in a facility called Manticore.  
  
Manticore was trying to create the perfect soldier, but their perfection had a flaw,  
  
they couldn't stop the X5s from having a heart.  
"All the children in Max's group grew to consider themselves brothers and sisters,  
  
and they secretly named themselves. Early in 2009, Max started having seizures, it  
  
had happened to one of her siblings before, and he had been taken away. Max said  
  
they never knew what had happened to him. One of her sisters stepped up to  
  
protect Max, pointing a gun at the director. He shot the girl; Max never would  
  
touch a gun after that. It prompted an escape. Max got away that night with twelve  
  
others, and has been hiding ever since. It has never been easy, but the Pulse made  
  
it a bit easier to disappear."  
"I met ma boo when she was nineteen, we covered each others backs in a fight, an'  
  
we came to Seattle together. 'Bout six months later, she broke into this apartment,  
  
Logan's apartment. Fell in love with her real quick, he came looking for her at Crash,  
  
he wanted her to protect this friend of his, cuz of the stuff she learned at  
  
Manticore. She told him strait up no, cuz she was only lookin' out fir herself. You  
  
know, then they teamed up and were always doin' stuff on the DL, you know, she  
  
always pulled a disappearin' act. None of us grunts that she worked with knew that  
  
she was off playin' superhero with him, til later, anyway. They was head ova heals  
  
for each other but in total denial."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, there were a lot of things that they thought were in their way."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"The fact that Max was from Manticore and on the run. She didn't want to have to  
  
love and then leave someone, or put that someone in danger because she always had  
  
the risk of being captured. Logan had a secret, too. He hated the way everyone had  
  
gone corrupt since the Pulse, so he started to make cable hacks, informing the  
  
people of what was going on, especially in the government. He was known to Seattle  
  
as Eyes Only, because he only showed his eyes when he broadcasted. No one knew  
  
who Eyes Only really was, except for Max, Cindy and I, and Logan's bodyguard  
  
Peter. A lot of people knew him as an Eyes Only contact, but no one ever thought  
  
that he could be the real guy. When Max broke into his apartment, he had someone  
  
staying, he and Peter were protecting her and her daughter, and they planned on  
  
moving them elsewhere the next day. He saw how Max took out Peter so easily and  
  
asked her to help out. She refused and the next day they were ambushed while  
  
making the move. The little girl was captured, her mother got away, but Peter was  
  
killed and Logan was shot in the back.  
"While Logan was in the hospital, Max saved him from another shooter sent to  
  
finish him off. She then got the little girl back to her mother safely, but Logan was  
  
still injured. He was in the hospital for almost three months; he had been paralyzed  
  
from the gunshot, and absolutely miserable. Trust me. I was his physical therapist,  
  
and that was when I met Max. She came by all the time, and had agreed to help  
  
Logan with the legwork, so to speak. He told her he would try to find information on  
  
her lost siblings in return."  
  
"Wow. But my mom and dad weren't together then?"  
  
"They was crazy ova each other, but in total denial. It was always 'We aren't like  
  
that'. Whatever."  
  
"Well, Logan thought the wheelchair was a barrier between them, and Max thought  
  
the barrier was Manticore. Eventually about a year later they got together, but  
  
just after that, Manticore finally caught up to Max.  
"She was in Manticore for three months, and the whole time, Logan thought she was  
  
dead. He ran a lot of Eyes Only hacks about Manticore. When she finally escaped  
  
again, Max found out that they had implanted a sort of virus. If she had any skin-  
  
to-skin contact with Logan, he would die. It put a huge rift between them, but they  
  
were still friends and colleagues. One day, they accidentally touched each other and  
  
Logan didn't die, the virus just expired. We were all happy for them, but they were  
  
so shocked that they stayed away from each other for a long time. Finally, about  
  
six months later..."  
"They finally realized what I had been tryin' to drill into their heads from day one.  
  
They was in love! It was all good for a while, till some scum dropped th' dime on the  
  
fact that th' building me and ma boo were livin' in was condemned. We was kicked  
  
out, I went to live with a friend and Max moved into the sky with Logan. It was all  
  
great an' fine till the day someone must a found out who Logan was."  
"We were supposed to watch a movie that night, Max and Logan had already started  
  
it and I was on my way when someone got into the building. When they heard the  
  
elevator door ding, they thought it was me, so Logan came to the door. Whoever it  
  
was shot him and took off before Max knew what had happened. Soon after, Cindy  
  
and I arrived, as did the doctors. They took Logan away. Max thought he was dead,  
  
she thought it was her fault. We left her in the den for five minutes, and when we  
  
came back, she was gone. We realized she had taken Logan's car instead of her  
  
bike, so we assumed she wouldn't be going very far because she loved her bike.  
  
When she never came back, we tried to track her down, but she was really good at  
  
covering her tracks. We tracked her to the border, so we knew she was in Canada.  
  
We hired a detective, and he thought he found her in Winnipeg. The person he  
  
found was a High School student, and we were going to contact her, but she moved  
  
away and we couldn't find her. We knew if it had been Max, the only way we would  
  
find her would be if she wanted us to find her.  
"It had been almost six months since Logan had been shot. He was in a coma, and  
  
didn't come out of it for another two. It was April first of that year when he came  
  
out of it, shouting Max's name. That's all he remembered, was the name Max. He  
  
didn't remember who Max was, he didn't remember who I was, and he barely  
  
remembered who he was. He knew he was Logan Cale; that was it. It took him a long  
  
time to remember everything, and then he was also depressed because Max was  
  
gone. He never really fully accepted the fact that he would never walk again, which  
  
left him severely depressed. In fact..."  
  
"Oh..." ~~ 


	21. twenty

"So, my father, Logan, is still alive? Then where is he?" Immediately, I knew.  
  
"He hasn't come out of his room in a long time. The furthest he goes from his bed is  
  
to his bathroom. That's why I moved in when he got out of the hospital. Cindy  
  
moved in because she is the only one who can get him to eat. I fight with him daily  
  
to do his physical therapy. That's the shouting you hear. He thinks it is a waste of  
  
time."  
  
"All he ever does is sit there, talking 'bout ma boo, writin' in this little book he has,  
  
or watching security stuff of her on that ole laptop he got."  
  
"He must miss her an awful lot. Can I meet him?"  
  
"Well, he doesn't take to strangers very good. For most of the last ten years, the  
  
only people he has seen is Cindy, Doctor Carr and I."  
  
"Doctor Carr?"  
  
"He has known Logan longer than either of us, he has been his doctor for a long  
  
time, and operated on him both times that he was shot as well as another time when  
  
he was having complications because of the original bullet. And another thing, Logan  
  
is now more afraid of guns than Max ever was, he is paranoid that someone will  
  
break in and shoot him again, that is why we try to have someone here at all times."  
  
"What about the other day, when we went shopping?"  
  
"Doctor Carr was here, I let him in when you were writing your letter. Next time I  
  
work with Logan I will talk to him about you. He always wants to talk about Max, he  
  
might want to meet you if I tell him you are Max's son."  
  
"What if Mom came back? What if she knew he was alive? She ran away because  
  
she thought he was dead, didn't she? Well, wouldn't she come back if she knew he  
  
was alive?"  
  
"She'd kick his @$$ from here ta next month when she finds out how he's been  
  
mopin' around all these years. Maybe she'll get 'em outta that funk an' into the real  
  
world again."  
  
"Yes, but it may upset Max too. She has thought Logan to be dead for a long time.  
  
She has a life in Bay-West with you and Patrick. Let's just give this situation time,  
  
and meanwhile, enroll you in school.  
  
~~ 


	22. Epilogue

Mom;  
  
I shouldn't tell you about this, but I have to. Dad, Logan, is alive. Bling and Cindy  
  
told me everything, about Manticore, about Eyes Only, everything, including what  
  
happened that day. They said you left before they found out he did not die. He was  
  
in a coma for almost eight months. Bling and Cindy tried to find you to tell you, they  
  
even hired an investigator, but they couldn't track you down. I haven't seen him yet,  
  
because he won't come out of his room and is afraid to let strangers near him. I will  
  
write you when I get more information.  
  
I love you and I miss you,  
  
Nicolas.  
~~  
I made an excuse the next day, saying I needed some air and I walked to the Post  
  
Office that we had used before, mailing my letter express again. I prayed Mom  
  
would understand and come to Seattle. I prayed she didn't freak out like Bling said  
  
she might. And I prayed that I had made the right decision.  
~~  
  
End  
  
~~ 


End file.
